A Loaded Pistol on Your Coffee Table
by scriptmanip
Summary: Companion piece to "Resting on Your Laurels." One-shot. Katie & Effy have a coffee.


**Author's Note:** Well, I'm full of fucking surprises, aren't I? Truthfully, I've had this sitting on my computer for quite some time and never really felt ready to post since my brain has been entirely Naomily-driven. But, I'd promised a little something of the Keffy variety to a few people and hate to disappoint [hopefully, this is not a disappointment]. The one-shot is meant to take place at some point after Christmas when Naomi has left London for New York/travel, and before Katie goes back to her work abroad. It was referenced briefly when Effy visits Naomi in Barcelona. It was also meant to be about 900 words and ended up being almost 2500 so ... you know, Keffy. Anyway, to all my lovely Keffy followers - here you are. Happy weekending, all.

* * *

"How's your sister?"

Katie pins the phone between her ear and shoulder cap, wiping Lewis' face with a damp cloth. "Effy?"

"No, it's the Duchess of Cornwall."

Katie scoffs at the tone, tired and flat, and tosses the cloth into a sink full of dishes.

"Of course it's me, Katie."

"What do you mean _of course_ it's you – why do you even have my number?" She moves about the kitchen, Lewis' eyes on her as she flits between the cupboards and the table because _someone's_ got to keep fucking tidy.

"Took it from Emily's phone months ago," she says easily. And then with that infuriating hint of deviance, "Thought it might come in handy."

Katie comes to rest along the counter, the small of her back leant up against it, and rests one arm along her stomach. "Still taking things that don't belong to you then?"

Through the line can be heard the distinct sounds of Effy's favourite pastime, and Katie makes a noise of disgust.

"I honestly can't believe you're still smoking – you're not a fucking child anymore, you know." She pushes off the edge of the counter, pulling Lewis from his highchair. "Just another bad habit you've not managed to outgrow then?"

"Believe it or not, I didn't ring you to be mothered, Katie." There's a sound, or really the absence of it, just something shy of an actual stutter, and then Effy says, "Shit, Katie, I didn't mean –"

"Yeah, well," Katie sighs, no longer penetrated by Effy's insensitivity. "You never think before opening your mouth, you twat, do you?" She pinches Lewis' cheek and he smiles. "So, why did ring you then? To ruin my otherwise pleasant morning?"

"Let me buy you a coffee."

Katie's laughter isn't forced but hardly genuine, reminiscent of something she once reserved for nearly _everything_ that came out of Cook's mouth. She's never given it much thought – certainly not in so many years – that her reaction to Cook's boorish inanity would somehow mirror her responses to Effy. But she wonders, for a fleeting moment, if it means she's grown to consider them with the same sort of inferiority.

It's too early in the day to deconstruct old dynamics that are as good as irrelevant anyway. And then Effy is back to saying things with caustic intuition, making Katie wish she'd had her ringer turned off in the first place. "Must be terribly reminiscent of old times then, living with Emily again after so many years on your own. How's the shared space?"

Katie turns her nose up at the sink full of dishes before leaving the kitchen with Lewis in her arms. "It's a fucking tip is what it is, and I'm ready to strangle her if she can't pull her shit together. I don't see what any of that has to do with you _or_ coffee."

"You should probably get out of the house for a bit. And I need some company since Naomi's gone back to America."

Katie scoffs, annoyed in two parts. One, in that she's being forced to discuss Naomi, with whom she's sort of irritated for fucking off and leaving Emily in a state. And two, that it's with Effy, someone she's not even sure she likes. "Don't really need a reminder of that, thanks."

"Emily not taking it well?" Effy asks, almost sounding genuinely interested for once in her fucking life.

Emily's been a fucking champion, actually. Though that doesn't keep Katie from scrutinising her mercilessly. It's in her blood, and try as she might, old habits die hard. Keeping watch over Emily, it's just instinctual. And she can't, like, check for fevers or monitor fatigue – symptoms of which she feels more confident because they're fairly concrete. What Emily's feeling, what she _must_ be feeling even though she's not said much and showed signs of even less, is internalised completely. Locked away somewhere behind her roles as a mother and a student and a teacher and all the others she's taken on that serve as excellent barriers behind which to hide in times like this. But Katie watches, she analyses every subtlety. And when Emily finally breaks apart, she'll be there to brush up the scattered pieces.

In some ways, it's another lifetime – those days and weeks and months where Emily's body turned limp and hollow, like a corpse. Where her life shattered into a thousand tiny pieces, sharp and jagged and painful, and Emily had laid there, unbathed and unfed and eyes rubbed raw, in total helplessness. Even though, truthfully, Emily was the one wielding the fucking weapon that did all that damage.

But, in other ways, so much of it seems like no time has passed at all. Katie wonders if it feels this way for them all. For Emily and Naomi and maybe even Effy, who wasn't even around back then but probably, like, _sensed_ what was happening by way of her perceptive nature or something. So Katie's been actively reminding herself that it _isn't_ the same, and that time _has_ passed, even though Emily sometimes looks at her – vacant and desolate – like it's the furthest thing from the truth.

"Come on then, Katie. Coffee? You can even bring the boy," Effy says, fucking arrogantly, as if she's now controlling not only where Katie goes but who accompanies her as well.

"Oh, can I? That's well inclusive of you." Effy chuckles, and a flash of insecurity hits Katie that's always sprung up when laughter follows words on which she _knows_ her lisp sounds fucking awful. To counteract, as old habits go, Katie insults her with some well-practiced spite. "Anyway I don't know why you thought I'd want to have coffee with you when I don't even like being _around_ you, Effy."

Effy laughs again and says, "Look, I'm just outside the flat. Let me in, will you?"

Katie then jumps up from the sofa, her brows cross and a scowl forming as she presses against the front windows. Lewis reaches out to touch the pane as she stutters, "Wh – you're _what_?"

Katie can see the way Effy's lips turn up, like she's so fucking pleased with herself, since she is, in fact, stood on Emily's front steps. And Katie then watches Effy's mouth move as she says, "I'm here. And, Katie," she smirks, throwing a placating wave towards the window, "you're a terrible liar."

On Katie's insistence, they don't go out for a coffee on the basis of Lewis' nap schedule. Though, really, it's more about self-respect than about her nephew. Because Katie had so clearly said she wasn't interested in having coffee, only to have Effy turn up in absolute defiance. But then, Katie shouldn't be terribly surprised since Effy never was the girl who recognised the word _no_.

_Still doing whatever the fuck she pleases_, Katie thinks, begrudgingly setting milk and sugar onto Emily's small kitchen table.

"Seriously, Katie." Effy's almost pensive, and when meeting her eye, Katie nearly fumbles the bowl of sugar. "How is she?"

They're sat in the kitchen, just off the sitting room where Lewis takes his nap. Emily would be at university for at least another three hours and could probably give a shit about Effy, and yet Katie feels a bit on edge, hosting guests in the flat without her. Still, although she'd never say it aloud, it's sort of nice having someone to talk to. Someone other than Emily, who's practically gone mute with depression. Or her mum, who's always on the verge of hysterics over absolutely nothing.

"She's total shit, obviously. Not that she'd admit it, you know. But, her life's been turned on its fucking head, and honestly, she doesn't even have the time to sort it properly. Because she's got Lewis, first and foremost, and then her dissertation and teaching – I wish I could do more for her."

"You've done a lot," Effy says. Her tone sounds warm, almost kind, though Katie attributes it to the fresh coffee and sunny weather, obviously skewing her perceptions. "Emily knows that."

"But that's all about to change, isn't it? I mean, I'm not here permanently. And then what?"

Effy's eyes flicker, her mouth barely ghosting with a smile. "Still not convinced your sister can take care of herself, are you?"

Katie tries to glare in response but ends up rolling her eyes instead. "Things are a bit different this time around, fucking wise-arse."

"Right, instead of telling Naomi to fuck off and leave Emily to you, you're wishing she'd what – come back and make things better? Relieve you of your post?"

"Ugh, I don't even know anymore," Katie says, running a hand through her hair. "They're apparently keeping communication through writing letters now, like it's the fucking eighteenth century or something."

Effy actually laughs at that, and it's beyond her control that Katie follows suit. "Say again?"

"I'm not shitting you – Ems has this special paper Naomi gave her and everything. Probably made from recycled dental dams or something."

Her light laughter turns to a pleasant cackle, and Effy's got to place her mug back onto the table to keep from spilling. Katie fights a broader smile while watching her, not entirely ready to admit, despite everything, that Effy Stonem's someone she can _actually_ have a laugh with. Despite the fact that they're sat at Emily's kitchen table doing just that.

Katie pokes her head into the sitting room to check on Lewis when Effy nips out for a cigarette, and when she returns they both just linger awkwardly in the corridor near the front door.

"Suppose you'll head back to your work rather soon?"

"Less than a week, I think," Katie says. Crosses and uncrosses her arms uncomfortably along her stomach.

"She'll be fine, Katie." Effy reaches out a tentative hand, barely touching near Katie's elbow. "I'll see to her if you like."

Katie laughs, tips her head back against the wall. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"You've got me all wrong, Katie. I've always been extremely philanthropic."

"It was _charity_ then that landed me in hospital with nine stitches, was it?"

Effy doesn't flinch but lets her hand fall back to her side when Katie squares her shoulders.

With a shrug, she says, "Maybe I was just trying to knock some sense into that highly unreasonable head of yours." And then letting her eyes drift in an unsettling once-over, Effy concludes, "Anyway, look how good you turned out."

Katie's laugh is like a bark that she quiets quickly, remembering her sleeping nephew, and then slugs Effy's shoulder hard enough to send her stumbling backwards. _Like a damp, fucking towel_, Katie thinks.

"You're still such a cunt."

"And you're still so amused," Effy counters, raising an eyebrow and regaining her footing.

"Fucking up-yourself bitch – no wonder you and Naomi are _bestest_ mates," Katie says with a spiteful grimace.

And Effy just smiles, like she's received high compliment from the queen herself.

"Thanks for the coffee, Katie."

"Uh, like I had a choice, babe."

"So," Effy starts, curbing her obvious amusement, "any chance you'll write me letters on special paper when you're back out in the field?"

"Fat fucking chance – what exactly would I have to share with _you_?"

"Right," Effy nods, some of the amusement now gone from her eyes that are no less intimidating to look at. "Back to our respective corners then?"

Katie folds her arms again, defensively, and practically huffs, "I know you think you're fucking clever, speaking in metaphors all the goddamn time, but –"

"I just mean, I'll see you around, yeah?" Effy speaks softly, like she's addressing a child who doesn't quite understand a maths equation or something. And Katie _hates_ that she's been reduced, in the span of an hour, to someone who gives a shit what Effy thinks of her.

Effy's already at the door by the time Katie manages a belated and mumbled, "Yeah, sure. Whatever."

But she then turns, the door partway ajar, and says, "She'll come back, you know. For Emily."

"What makes you so fucking sure – other than the fact that you apparently know _everything_."

Effy smiles again, and it's so genuine and lovely it turns something sickly inside Katie's chest. "Benefit of being _bestest mates_ with another up-yourself cunt. _Obviously_." Her smile turns into something shared, because, try as she might, Katie can't really stop the corners of her mouth from turning upwards. Effy lets the moment stretch on a moment longer before opening the door fully, turning her head one last time to say, "See you, Katie."

The latch of the door clicks shut just as Katie hears Lewis begin to stir.

* * *

**Post script:** Hope you've all enjoyed this little additional snippet, and if you have/haven't let me know!


End file.
